by Easton, Don
“What is it?” asked Barfoot.
Oskar looked stunned as he hung up, staring at the phone.
“Oskar? What’s up?” prodded Barfoot. “Is he dead?”
“Christ, far from it,” replied Oskar. “You won’t believe it.”
“Believe what?” demanded Barfoot.
“The nurse said not to worry about him and that he is fine. She said the police who were protecting him in the hospital took him to the airport.”
Jack groaned inwardly. His instincts told him to leave, but at the same time he wanted to hear what they would say. He flattened himself down on the sand and inched a little closer, barely breathing as he strained to listen. It was a move that wasn’t necessary. Panic had caused the men to raise their voices.
“They’re on to us!” blurted Barfoot, getting to his feet.
“Gotta be,” replied Oskar, his voice sounding shrill. “What’ll we do?”
“Get our asses back to Malaysia,” said Barfoot, determinedly. “We’ll be safe there.”
Jack frowned. Okay, so you’ll all get away with murder … not really my business on how international politics works. Don’t make it personal. If they’re not extradited, that’s the way the cookie crumbles …
“Then let’s go,” said Oskar. “Get the tender back here!”
“Hang on a sec,” replied Barfoot. “Let’s sit a minute, he said, motioning with his hand for Oskar to sit. “We should think things through a bit. First of all, how did they get on to us?”
Oskar stared at Barfoot for a moment, then took a seat. “Maybe the insurance companies finally put it together,” he suggested.
“Maybe, but if so, what do they really know?” questioned Barfoot. “Or better yet, what can they prove?”
“None of us have been arrested yet … so maybe they don’t have anything,” replied Oskar, optimistically.
“Maybe.”
“Still, I’d feel safer talking about it back in Malaysia.”
“Didn’t you think it kind of funny that one of our best guys slipped and died while trying to kill Jack in the Golden Triangle?”
“What are you getting at?”
“And that we haven’t found Jack’s body yet?”
Oskar looked stunned. “Christ, I really don’t like where this is headed.”
“There was even that moorage line,” said Barfoot, thoughtfully.
“Moorage line?”
“Hanging off the bow. It should have been nicely curled on the deck and not hanging in the water.”
“Oh my God!” replied Oskar. “You’re thinking he is still alive and hitched a ride back with us?”
“Possibly.”
Jack saw both men turn and look toward the ocean, then Oskar rummaged in the duffle bag and grabbed a pistol and got to his feet. “If he is, we better find him. The island isn’t that big. It shouldn’t take long.”
Jack slowly started to inch his way backwards.
“If it was daytime, we might find him,” replied Barfoot. “That’s if he is around, or doesn’t swim out and hide in the ocean.”
“We can’t leave him! If he’s alive, we’re dead!”
“I know, but if he is, I don’t think we would find him before the police found us.”
“Then we sure as Christ better get the hell out of here!”
“I agree, but it is important to calm down and think logically. How do we know they’re not looking for us right now?” asked Barfoot.
“You’re thinking that could be them on that boat you were looking at?” asked Oskar, as he spun around to look out over the ocean.
“No, that one’s too nice. These waters are usually patrolled by the Thai military. Neither they nor the police have any boats that look that nice.”
“Good, then let’s get out of here.”
“Let me finish. If the police were protecting Potter, you can bet they were protecting Jack as well. My guess is they’re probably doing their best to locate the Malaysian Princess at this very moment.”
“So both the military and the police could be looking for us?”
“From what you said about Potter’s protection, I’m sure of it.”
“Makes it all the more urgent to go,” said Oskar, excitedly.
“Hold your horses. The Princess isn’t exactly something that slips by unnoticed. If we do try and make a run for it and they catch us, there is no way they’ll believe that Jack drowned.”
“They’d nail our asses to the wall.”
“You got that right. Neither one of us would see the light of day ever again. Worse yet, if he is still alive … well either way, it likely won’t matter. If we’re caught, we’re dead. Thailand believes in capital punishment.”
“Oh, fuck. So what should we do?” asked Oskar.
“We need some insurance,” said Barfoot, rising to his feet and pointing to the boat that was off in the distance. “I think we should grab that one. The authorities won’t be looking for it. Kill whoever is on board and use it to get back. The murders might even get blamed on the pirates.”
International politics and extradition treaties were no longer on Jack’s mind. He glanced out to sea at the lights from the boat. Someone’s romantic cruise was about to turn into a nightmare.
Wonder how many people are on board … or if they have children?
“And leave the Malaysian Princess?” asked Oskar.
“Would you would prefer to be executed?” replied Barfoot.
“No!”
“I’ll tell Razak and Khalid to bring the Princess back. They’ll do what I tell them. If need be, they might also act as a distraction by making a run for it. If they make it, great, if not, that’s too bad.”
“Let’s do it.”
“I’ll radio Razak and tell him to pick us up. With luck, we’ll be on our way in that other boat within the hour.”
Hiding and waiting to be rescued is no longer an option …
Jack was already heading down the beach toward Khalid, when he heard Barfoot using his walkie-talkie to call Razak.
The level of the beach dropped as it neared the ocean. As long as Jack remained doubled over, Barfoot and Oskar would not be able to see him from where they were.
Khalid was strolling down the beach away from him. The waves, only knee-deep as they hit the shore, took on a luminescent glow as they rolled in. He knew Khalid would have his attention focused on the waves.
Jack was no longer worried about leaving footprints. He stopped at the water’s edge and quickly took off one running shoe and a sock.
Guess what, asshole, you’re about to find out that I’m very much alive!
Chapter Forty-Three
The sudden appearance of a shadow in the moonlight told Khalid that someone was behind him. He glanced back to look, but was too late. The first blow to his temple emitted a wet-sounding thud. Jack thought the blow might have killed him, but it didn’t.
Khalid only fell to his hands and knees, but was stunned and his mouth gaped open as he blinked and tried to get to his feet.
Jack quickly struck again. His weapon was his sock. Packed with wet sand and twisted and knotted to hold the sand firmly in place, it made an ideal club. This time his blow landed on the opposite temple and Khalid dropped face-first into the sand.
Jack’s plan had been to take Khalid out silently, then take his pistol to get the drop on Barfoot and Oskar. He could then use one of their phones to call for help.
So far, his plan was working. Khalid was still breathing, but completely unconscious and had not yelled out during the attack.
Jack quickly rolled him over, searching for the pistol. That was when the plan fell apart. There was no pistol. Khalid had left it back in the duffel bag at the fire pit.
The sound of the tender caught his immediate attention. In the lights from the yacht, he could see Pike untying the tender for Razak. Seconds later, Pike shoved the tender off and Razak gunned the engine and headed for shore.
Jack recalled Barfoot’s
comment. It can do up to forty knots … faster than the Princess …
A new plan emerged. Steal the tender and warn the people on the other boat to call for help. Jack figured if he could pull it off, it would take everyone at least twenty minutes to swim to the yacht. It would give him enough of a head start to warn the others who could call for help while they escaped.
Jack raced back down the beach and could see Barfoot and Oskar folding the chairs and preparing to leave. He looked at the tender roaring across the water, its spotlight shining like a locomotive. Jack guessed he had less than two minutes before it arrived. He took a deep breath and plunged into the water.
Jack lay on his back in chest-deep water with his arms stretched out, while one foot occasionally bounced off the bottom to help keep him afloat. He hoped he looked dead, otherwise he knew he would be.
He heard the tender bouncing across the water as it drew near. Razak cut the throttle down as he approached and soon felt the bump of the tender against his arm.
“Guys! I found him!” he heard Razak yell. “Floated in right at you!” he added.
A muffled reply came from Barfoot, but Jack did not hear and held his breath as his head dipped under the water. Okay, haul me in, asshole. I’ve got a little surprise for you …
Jack was the one who was in for a surprise. Razak didn’t bother to haul him into the tender, instead, opting to grab him by the wrist and tow him to shore.
Shit!
As Jack’s body started to drag behind the tender, he twisted his body and braced both feet on the bottom while wrapping his fingers around Razak’s wrist and yanking as hard as he could. He hoped it would catch Razak off guard and topple him into the water, giving him a chance to grab the tender and make good his escape.
Razak’s body turned and half fell over the back of the tender, but for the most part, he remained still inside. “He’s alive!” Razak shouted.
Jack heard more shouts from the beach and his feet momentarily came off the bottom as Razak gunned the engine with his other hand. Barfoot and Oskar were both shouting and running toward them on the beach.
Jack was barely aware that the propeller had taken a gash out of his shin as he struggled to brace his feet again, while trying to pull Razak out.
Briefly, he came face to face with Razak who managed to clamp both hands around Jack’s throat before forcing his head under the water. Jack flailed with his arms, twisting and turning while thrashing his body in a bid to escape.
Razak had the advantage of height from above to lean down and use his strength and weight to force Jack’s head under the water. Looking up through the churning bubbles, Jack could make out the blurred silhouette of Razak’s head.
Jack’s body cried out for air as the energy he expended demanded that he breathe. He lifted his feet off the bottom and the tender surged slightly ahead before Jack braced himself again, while getting one more gulp of air before being forced back under the water.
Razak’s knees and legs were still in the tender but the upper part of his body was stretched out over the back as he dug his thumbs deeper into Jack’s throat.
Razak expected Jack to try and pry his hands off … so he was caught off guard when Jack reached up and grabbed him by the hair on the back of his head and plunged him face-first into the propeller.
Razak immediately let go of Jack’s neck, but he was too late to fend off the attack. The effervescent foam around the engine became a red froth as Jack held the tender in place with one hand, while mashing Razak’s face and throat into the propeller.
Jack was conscious of Oskar approaching the front of the tender, but fear, coupled with adrenaline, caused him to push longer than necessary. He could feel the vibration from the propeller as it struck the bones in Razak’s face.
It was a burst of machine-gun fire that told Jack it was time to let go of Razak’s limp body. Oskar had now grabbed the front of the tender and was pulling it to one side to get a better shot at Jack.
Jack’s plan to climb in the tender was no longer an option, so he spun around and dived back into the ocean.
As he swam underwater he expected to see or hear the zing of bullets in the water around him … or worse yet, to feel them enter his body, but he didn’t. When his lungs once more craved air, he cautiously stuck his head out of the water.
Razak’s body was still hanging over the back of the tender, but when he had been hauled over the back, it had caused the tender to change direction. It was now headed parallel to the beach and being chased by Oskar, who was holding his automatic rifle above the waves while trying to catch up to it.
Jack became conscious of the gash across his shin. I’ve heard sharks can smell a drop of blood up to a quarter of a mile …
A squawk from a walkie-talkie caught his attention and he saw that Barfoot was standing on the beach a short distance away with another automatic rifle. Jack heard him radioing Pike and telling him to raise the anchor and move closer to shore, as they may have to swim.
Jack glanced back at the tender as it hit a wave and saw Razak’s body bounce like a rag doll as it hung off the back. The wave caused the tender to change direction again and it headed closer to shore.
Jack heard Barfoot stop mid-sentence and he realized he had been spotted. He took a gulp of air and dived again. Phosphorescent darts of light streaking past him announced that he was being fired upon and he swam deeper and faster than he ever knew he could.
If I live, what do I do? Watch while they go murder the people on that boat and escape? Christ, I need air again …
Chapter Forty-Four
Barfoot emptied his magazine, then lowered his weapon. “Khalid! Where the hell are you?” he screamed.
Not getting an answer, Barfoot cursed to himself, then picked up the duffel bag containing the weapons and plodded down the beach toward Oskar, who had managed to grab hold of the tender and shut off the engine.
A short distance down the beach, Barfoot found Khalid’s body laying at the ocean’s edge. Farther down the beach he saw that Oskar had dragged the tender ashore and was pulling Razak’s body back inside.
“Oskar!” he yelled. “Haul that thing over here. I found Khalid. I need the light.”
Moments later, Barfoot and Oskar both bent over Khalid who was now illuminated from the spotlight on the tender.
“What’s wrong with him?” asked Oskar. “He’s still breathing. He isn’t dead.” Oskar shook Khalid by the shoulder, but there was no response.
Barfoot opened Khalid’s eyelids and saw that one eye had haemorrhaged, turning red.
“What the hell did he do to him?” muttered Barfoot. “He must have hit him on the head with something, but I don’t see any head wounds.
Oskar glanced out at the ocean. “Who the hell is that guy? First Rabbit, then Razak and now Khalid. He isn’t some ordinary chump with asthma who —”
“Razak?” replied Barfoot. “I thought you shot him by mistake when they were fighting behind the tender.”
“No way! I aimed high on purpose so I wouldn’t hit Razak by mistake. I thought Jack would surrender. It wasn’t me who killed him. When the tender took off, I saw Razak hanging off the back. I thought maybe he was just knocked out and chased after him so he wouldn’t drown.”
“He drowned?”
“Hell, no, he didn’t drown. Let me show you.”
Oskar and Barfoot leaned inside the tender and rolled Razak over onto his back.
“See?” said Oskar. “His face is practically missing. Christ, look at his neck! His head is almost cut off! I didn’t do that.”
“You’re right,” growled Barfoot. “Who the hell did you really hire?”
“I don’t know. I did it on your advice,” grumbled Oskar.
“I figured the guy was smart and would handle the legit stuff well.”
“I thought he was a wimp, but look what he did to Razak.”
“Yeah, I see that.” Barfoot shook his head and looked around, then gestured to Razak’s body. “
Don’t know why you hauled him inside. He’s no good to us, except as crab bait. Dump him out and we’ll put Khalid in there. Maybe he’ll come around.”
Minutes later, they loaded Khalid into the tender and Barfoot glanced out at the Malaysian Princess. The yacht was slowly moving parallel to the beach and Pike was in the wheelhouse, using a spotlight mounted on the roof above him to scan the waters.
“Jesus Christ!” screamed Barfoot. “There he is!” he yelled, while grabbing his walkie-talkie.
Jack had quietly hauled himself up onto the swim grid on the back of the Malaysian Princess. The yacht was lit up like a small city, but he saw that Barfoot and Oskar were busy loading Khalid onto the tender, so he climbed on board and crouched down. From the spotlight scanning the water, he knew Pike was in the wheelhouse.
Is Pike packing a gun? With his training, he wouldn’t need one if he gets his hands on me …
Jack’s new plan relied on the element of surprise: bash Pike on the head from behind, without giving him a chance to either fight or draw a weapon, then use the yacht’s radio to send out a warning and call for the authorities to help him.
He opened up the small plastic toolbox that Pike had used earlier to fix his reel and looked inside.
Goddamn it! What good is a toolbox without a hammer?
Seconds later, Jack ran toward the first stairwell, leading up to the main deck.
Jack heard Barfoot’s excited voice blast out over the walkie-talkie Pike had with him in the wheelhouse.
“Jack is on the Princess behind you!”
Oh, shit…
“Repeat,” he heard Pike yell. “Did you say he is on the boat? Or behind it?”
Jack raced up the first stairwell, but before he could take the second one to the wheelhouse, he heard Pike’s footsteps above him running toward the top of the stairwell.
Jack stepped through the door leading into the main deck and ducked behind a lounge chair. If Pike entered, he would make another attempt at a surprise attack.
Knowing Pike’s training, I’ve probably got about a snowball’s chance in hell …
